


Scents

by Fluffhd



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-09-12 15:20:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16875285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fluffhd/pseuds/Fluffhd





	Scents

Jesse McCree

The dry grass that crunches underfoot, the dust caught into small tornadoes in a desert. His lips are chapped, skin rough and hands dry, like sandpaper but worn on the knuckles from each rubbing against Peacekeeper. Lemon and something distinctly grassy rolls off his body, smelling like a field in a parched desert. An oasis for the thirsty. His breath is warm against you, smelling of stale smoke and the flask contents of the day, but its grown to be familiar and homey. His body smells like a strong musk, not an unpleasant smell, but rather the scent of a hard days work. His skin tastes of salt, and you can almost smell the ocean when you nuzzle your face against his neck. His hands rasp against your clothes, ridges of each fingerprint feeling more intense on overheated skin, rarely touched. He smells of lemongrass, and smoke and the sharp chill of a cold winters night. His smile cuts deep into you, suffuses you with warmth, even when he only smiles with his eyes. 

\------

Tekhartha Zenyatta

Zenyatta smells of almost nothing, and at first it startles you. You expect the burning ozone of whirring mechanics, the scent of oil, smoke, even something metallic. Instead, he smells like electricity, like a thunderstorm before it hits, the ground after a lighting strike. And within, something so serene. A lotus opening after the rain, the petrichor of a deep forest, the hard permafrost of an ancient and undisturbed tundra. His movements are slow, but never subtle, large sweeping ways as harmony orbs float about, their scent like sunshine on a warm day, where you can almost feel it with every sensation. An orb of Discord, reminding you of deep incense smoke, but too strong, much to overpowering and you could feel tears spring to your eyes uninvited.

Zenyatta smells of nothing, and of every place he has ever been all at once. 

\------

Hanzo Shimada

He smells like dust, and you would tell him so if not for the constant frown upon his face, held heavy on his brow. He smells like ancient times, like a lush forest, dripping with fresh dew, the wind drawing a deep breath across your face, humid and sticky air following at your side. Pond plants dazzling in the sunshine, or dripping from the gentle rains. A fresh plucked waterside reed, tossed by a child and used as a sword. He smells of power, the scent making your hackles raise instinctively as dragons course through his veins. They shimmer blue, raging tides pushing into reality, made from the plasma and iron in his blood.

Hanzo smells like an ancient shrine, left alone in the forest, overgrown for decades, only to have blood spilled across its path. 

\------

Gabriel Reyes

Gabriel smells like rust, wax, pumpkins. The candles burnt endlessly at a shrine in the living room, the food made lovingly in a kitchen far too small for the large family gathered there. But the scent of rust lingers; of worn out bones turning to chalk in clenching fists. His breath is spiced, a dark scent that reminds you equally of food gone sour and deep, dense earth. Gabriel’s bones creak, held together with magic, science; both. His skin ripples, and you can’t stand to touch it for long, the way it seems to thin beneath your touch, pulling away from anyone and everyone.

His eyes glow, and all you can think of is pumpkins, and the way he used to laugh on Halloween.

\------

D. Va

She smells like too many sleepless nights, too few showers, and the stink of fear. D.Va’s armor falters, and the oil strikes all nostrils, dripping out as the metal is crushed against turrets, taking the brunt of the force to allow the foot soldiers to run forward unharmed. D.Va cackles, seeming to revel in the chaos and digital thrill of the battle. Her HUD shows a series of points, her own way to make war feel more like a game. It dulls the fear, and no one notices the way her laughter often cracks. D.Va laughs out of fear, out of adrenaline making her heart pump to hard and fast, barely staying in her chest.

D.Va is afraid. This is not a game.

Still she fights for everyone. She must protect everyone she loves. Heroes are rarely given much choice. Link was handed a sword.

But this is not a game.

And D.Va is afraid.


End file.
